DCQA£i  CAROL 


J^me  D0UGL7YS  fWUCrGI^ 


UNIVERSITY  OF 

NO^TH  CAROLINA  Hf*SSJI™m™™mSiiiiw 

School  of  Library- 


Science 


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THE    LITTLE    RUGGLESES    BORE    IT   BRAVELY.     Page  35. 


THE 


BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS   CAROL 


KATE   DOUGLAS  WIGGIN 


BOSTON   AND    NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 

Cfoe  fiineqsiiDe  |9rc*£,  Camfiri&gc 


Copyright,  1886, 
By  KATE  DOUGLAS  WIGGIN. 

Copyright,  1888, 
By  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

All  rights  reserved. 


SIXTY-THIRD  THOUSAND. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


To 

Wt)t  &rjrce  Bearcat  GHjttoren  in  tfje  aJSorlB, 
BERTHA,  LUCY,  AND  HORATIO. 


CONTENTS  AND  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"  The  Little  Buggleses  bore  it  bravely  " 

Vignette  .... 

I.   A  Little  Snow  Bird 

'■  She  is  a  little  Christmas  Child  " 

II.   Drooping  Wings 

III.  The  Bird's  Nest 

IV.  "  Birds  of  a  feather  flock  together 
•       The  "  Window  School "  . 

V.   Some  Other  Birds  are  taught  to  Fly 

"  I  want  ter  see  how  yer  goin  ter  behave  " 

VI.   "  When  the  pie  was  opened,  | 

The  birds  began  to  sing  "    ) 

"  The  Buggleses  never  forgot  it  " 

VII.   The  Birdling  flies  away 

"  My  A  in  Countree  " 

"  I  thought  of  the  Star  in  the  East  " 


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THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 


I. 

A    LITTLE    SNOW    BIRD. 


mm 
11 


T  was  very  early  Christmas  morning,  and  in 
the  stillness  of  the  dawn,  with  the  soft  snow 
falling  on  the  housetops,  a  little  child  was 
born  in  the  Bird  household. 

They  had  intended  to  name  the  baby  Lucy,  if  it 
were  a  girl ;  but  they  had  not  expected  her  on 
Christmas  morning,  and  a  real  Christmas  baby  was 
not  to  be  lightly  named  —  the  whole  family  agreed 
in  that. 

They  were  consulting  about  it  in  the  nursery. 
Mr.  Bird  said  that  he  had  assisted  in  naming  the 
three  boys,  and  that  he  should  leave  this  matter  en- 
tirely to  Mrs.  Bird ;  Donald  wanted  the  child  called 
"  Dorothy,"  after  a  pretty  little  curly-haired  girl  who 
sat  next  him  in  school ;  Paul  chose  "  Luella,"  for 
Luella  was  the  nurse  who  had  been  with  him  during 

696717 


2  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

his  whole  babyhood,  up  to  the  time  o£  his  first  trou- 
sers, and  the  name  suggested  all  sorts  of  comfortable 
things.  Uncle  Jack  said  that  the  first  girl  should 
always  be  named  for  her  mother,  no  matter  how  hid- 
eous the  name  happened  to  be. 

Grandma  said  that  she  would  prefer  not  to  take 
any  part  in  the  discussion,  and  everybody  suddenly 
remembered  that  Mrs.  Bird  had  thought  of  naming 
the  baby  Lucy,  for  Grandma  herself  j  and,  while  it 
would  be  indelicate  for  her  to  favor  that  name,  it 
would  be  against  human  nature  for  her  to  suggest 
any  other,  under  the  circumstances. 

Hugh,  the  "  hitherto  baby,"  if  that  is  a  possible 
term,  sat  in  one  corner  and  said  nothing,  but  felt,  in 
some  mysterious  way,  that  his  nose  was  out  of  joint ; 
for  there  was  a  newer  baby  now,  a  possibility  he  had 
never  taken  into  consideration  ;  and  the  "  first  girl," 
too,  —  a  still  higher  development  of  treason,  which 
made  him  actually  green  with  jealousy. 

But  it  was  too  profound  a  subject  to  be  settled 
then  and  there,  on  the  spot ;  besides,  Mamma  had 
not  been  asked,  and  everybody  felt  it  rather  absurd, 
after  all,  to  forestall  a  decree  that  was  certain  to  be 
absolutely  wise,  just,  and  perfect. 

The  reason  that  the  subject  had  been  brought  up 
at  all  so  early  in  the  day  lay  in  the  fact  that  Mrs. 


A   LITTLE  SNOW  BIRD.  6 

Bird  never  allowed  her  babies  to  go  over  night 
unnamed.  She  was  a  person  of  so  great  decision  of 
character  that  she  would  have  blushed  at  such  a 
thing ;  she  said  that  to  let  blessed  babies  go  dan- 
gling and  dawdling  about  without  names,  for  months 
and  months,  was  enough  to  ruin  them  for  life.  She 
also  said  that  if  one  could  not  make  up  one's  mind 
in  twenty-four  hours  it  was  a  sign  that  —  but  I  will 
not  repeat  the  rest,  as  it  might  prejudice  you  against 
the  most  charming  woman  in  the  world. 

So  Donald  took  his  new  velocipede  and  went  out 
to  ride  up  and  down  the  stone  pavement  and  notch 
the  shins  of  innocent  people  as  they  passed  by,  while 
Paul  spun  his  musical  fop  on  the  front  steps. 

But  Hugh  refused  to  leave  the  scene  of  action. 
He  seated  himself  on  the  top  stair  in  the  hall, 
banged  his  head  against  the  railing  a  few  times,  just 
by  way  of  uncorking  the  vials  of  his  wrath,  and  then 
subsided  into  gloomy  silence,  waiting  to  declare  war 
if  more  "  first  girl  babies  "  were  thrust  upon  a  fam- 
ily already  surfeited  with  that  unnecessary  article. 

Meanwhile  dear  Mrs.  Bird  lay  in  her  room,  weak, 
but  safe  and  happy  with  her  sweet  girl  baby  by  her 
side  and  the  heaven  of  motherhood  opening  again 
before  her.  Nurse  was  making  gruel  in  the  kitchen, 
and  the  room  was  dim  and  quiet.    There  was  a  cheer- 


4  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

ful  open  fire  in  the  grate,  but  though  the  shutters 
were  closed,  the  side  windows  that  looked  out  on  the 
Church  of  Our  Saviour,  next  door,  were  a  little  open. 
Suddenly  a  sound  of  music  poured  out  into  the 
bright  air  and  drifted  into  the  chamber.  It  was  the 
boy-choir  singing  Christmas  anthems.  Higher  and 
higher  rose  the  clear,  fresh  voices,  full  of  hope 
and  cheer,  as  children's  voices  always  are.  Fuller 
and  fuller  grew  the  burst  of  melody  as  one  glad 
strain  fell  upon  another  in  joyful  harmony  :  — 

"  Carol,  brothers,  carol, 

Carol  joyfully, 
Carol  the  good  tidings, 

Carol  merrily  T 
And  pray  a  gladsome  Christmas 

For  all  your  fellow-men  : 
Carol,  brothers,  carol, 

Christmas  Day  again." 

One  verse  followed  another,  always  with  the  same 
glad  refrain  :  — 

"  And  pray  a  gladsome  Christmas 
For  all  your  fellow-men  : 
Carol,  brothers,  carol, 
Christmas  Day  again." 

Mrs.  Bird  thought,  as  the  music  floated  in  upon 
her  gentle  sleep,  that  she  had  slipped  into  heaven 


A  LITTLE  SNOW  BIRD.  5 

with  her  new  baby,  and  that  the  angels  were  bidding 
them  welcome.  But  the  tiny  bundle  by  her  side 
stirred  a  little,  and  though  it  was  scarcely  more  than 
the  ruffling  of  a  feather,  she  awoke ;  for  the  mother- 
ear  is  so  close  to  the  heart  that  it  can  hear  the  fainfr 
est  whisper  of  a  child. 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  drew  the  baby  closer.  It 
looked  like  a  rose  dipped  in  milk,  she  thought,  this 
pink  and  white  blossom  of  girlhood,  or  like  a  pink 
cherub,  with  its  halo  of  pale  yellow  hair,  finer  than 
floss  silk. 

"  Carol,  brothers,  carol, 
Carol  joyfully, 
Carol  the  good  tidings, 
Carol  merrily  ! " 

The  voices  were  brimming  over  with  joy. 

"Why,  my  baby,"  whispered  Mrs.  Bird  in  soft 
surprise,  "  I  had  forgotten  what  day  it  was.  You 
are  a  little  Christmas  child,  and  we  will  name  you 
'  Carol '  —  mother's  little  Christmas  Carol !  " 

"  What ! "  said  Mr.  Bird,  coming  in  softly  and 
closing  the  door  behind  him. 

"  Why,  Donald,  don't  you  think  c  Carol '  is  a 
sweet  name  for  a  Christmas  baby  ?  It  came  to  me 
just  a  moment  ago  in  the  singing,  as  I  was  lying 
here  half  asleep  and  half  awake." 


6  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

61  I  think  it  is  a  charming  name,  dear  heart,  and 
sounds  just  like  you,  and  I  hope  that,  being  a  girl, 
this  baby  has  some  chance  of  being  as  lovely  as  her 
mother ; "  —  at  which  speech  from  the  baby's  papa, 
Mrs.  Bird,  though  she  was  as  weak  and  tired  as  she 
could  be,  blushed  with  happiness. 

And  so  Carol  came  by  her  name. 

Of  course,  it  was  thought  foolish  by  many  people, 
though  Uncle  Jack  declared  laughingly  that  it  was 
very  strange  if  a  whole  family  of  Birds  could  not 
be  indulged  in  a  single  Carol ;  and  Grandma,  who 
adored  the  child,  thought  the  name  much  more  ap- 
propriate than  Lucy,  but  was  glad  that  people  would 
probably  think  it  short  for  Caroline. 

Perhaps  because  she  was  born  in  holiday  time, 
Carol  was  a  very  happy  baby.  Of  course,  she  was 
too  tiny  to  understand  the  joy  of  Christmas-tide,  but 
people  say  there  is  everything  in  a  good  beginning, 
and  she  may  have  breathed  in  unconsciously  the 
fragrance  of  evergreens  and  holiday  dinners ;  while 
the  peals  of  sleigh-bells  and  the  laughter  of  happy 
children  may  have  fallen  upon  her  baby  ears  and 
wakened  in  them  a  glad  surprise  at  the  merry  world 
she  had  come  to  live  in. 

Her  cheeks  and  lips  were  as  red  as  holly-berries ; 
her  hair  was  for  all  the  world  the  color  of  a  Christ- 


"SHE   IS  A  LITTLE   CHRISTMAS   CHILD."     Page  7. 


A   LITTLE  SNOW  BIRD.  9 

mas  candle-flame ;  her  eyes  were  bright  as  stars ; 
her  laugh  like  a  chime  of  Christmas  bells,  and  her 
tiny  hands  forever  outstretched  in  giving. 

Such  a  generous  little  creature  you  never  saw !  A 
spoonful  of  bread  and  milk  had  always  to  be  taken 
by  Mamma  or  nurse  before  Carol  could  enjoy  her 
supper  ;  whatever  bit  of  cake  or  sweetmeat  found  its 
way  into  her  pretty  fingers  was  straightway  broken 
in  half  to  be  shared  with  Donald,  Paul,  or  Hugh ; 
and  when  they  made  believe  nibble  the  morsel  with 
affected  enjoyment,  she  would  clap  her  hands  and 
crow  with  delight. 

"  Why  does  she  do  it  ?  "  asked  Donald,  thought- 
fully.    "  None  of  us  boys  ever  did." 

"I  hardly  know,"  said  Mamma,  catching  her 
darling  to  her  heart,  "except  that  she  is  a  little 
Christmas  child,  and  so  she  has  a  tiny  share  of  the 
blessedest  birthday  the  world  ever  saw !  " 


II. 

DROOPING    WINGS. 


T  was  December,  ten  years  later. 

Carol  had  seen  nine  Christmas  trees 
lighted  on  her  birthdays,  one  after  an- 
other ;  nine  times  she  had  assisted  in  the  holiday 
festivities  of  the  household,  though  in  her  babyhood 
her  share  of  the  gayeties  was  somewhat  limited. 

For  five  years,  certainly,  she  had  hidden  presents 
for  Mamma  and  Papa  in  their  own  bureau  drawers, 
and  harbored  a  number  of  secrets  sufficiently  large 
to  burst  a  baby  brain,  had  it  not  been  for  the  re- 
lief gained  by  whispering  them  all  to  Mamma,  at 
night,  when  she  was  in  her  crib,  a  proceeding  which 
did  not  in  the  least  lessen  the  value  of  a  secret  in 
her  innocent  mind. 

For  five  years  she  had  heard  "  'T  was  the  night 
before  Christmas,"  and  hung  up  a  scarlet  stocking 
many  sizes  too  large  for  her,  and  pinned  a  sprig  of 
holly  on  her  little  white  nightgown,  to  show  Santa 
Claus   that   she   was   a    "  truly "    Christmas   child, 


DROOPING    WINGS.  \\ 

^nd  dreamed  of  fur-coated  saints  and  toy-packs  and 
reindeer,  and  wished  everybody  a  "  Merry  Christ- 
mas "  before  it  was  light  in  the  morning,  and  lent 
every  one  of  her  new  toys  to  the  neighbors'  chil- 
dren before  noon,  and  eaten  turkey  and  plum- 
pudding,  and  gone  to  bed  at  night  in  a  trance  of 
happiness  at  the  day's  pleasures. 

Donald  was  away  at  college  now.  Paul  and 
Hugh  were  great  manly  fellows,  taller  than  their 
mother.  Papa  Bird  had  gray  hairs  in  his  whiskers ; 
and  Grandma,  God  bless  her,  had  been  four  Christ- 
mases  in  heaven. 

But  Christmas  in  the  Birds'  Nest  was  scarcely 
as  merry  now  as  it  used  to  be  in  the  bygone  years, 
for  the  little  child  that  once  brought  such  an  added 
blessing  to  the  day,  lay,  month  after  month,  a  pa- 
tient, helpless  invalid,  in  the  room  where  she  was 
born.  She  had  never  been  very  strong  in  body, 
and  it  was  with  a  pang  of  terror  her  mother  and 
father  noticed,  soon  after  she  was  five  years  old, 
that  she  began  to  limp,  ever  so  slightly  ;  to  com- 
plain too  often  of  weariness,  and  to  nestle  close  to 
her  mother  saying  she  "  would  rather  not  go  out 
to  play,  please."  The  illness  was  slight  at  first, 
and  hope  was  always  stirring  in  Mrs.  Bird's  heart. 
"  Carol  would  feel  stronger  in  the  summer-time ; " 


12  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

or  "  She  would  be  better  when  she  had  spent  a  year 
in  the  country ;  "  or,  "  She  would  outgrow  it ; "  or, 
"  They  would  try  a  new  physician ; "  but  by  and 
by  it  came  to  be  all  too  sure  that  no  physician 
save  One  could  make  Carol  strong  again,  and  that 
no  "  summer-time "  nor  "  country  air,"  unless  it 
were  the  everlasting  summer-time  in  a  heavenly 
country,  could  bring  back  the  little  girl  to  health. 

The  cheeks  and  lips  that  were  once  as  red  as 
holly-berries  faded  to  faint  pink;  the  star-like  eyes 
grew  softer,  for  they  often  gleamed  through  tears ; 
and  the  gay  child-laugh,  that  had  been  like  a  chime 
of  Christmas  bells,  gave  place  to  a  smile  so  lovely, 
so  touching,  so  tender  and  patient,  that  it  filled 
every  corner  of  the  house  with  a  gentle  radiance 
that  might  have  come  from  the  face  of  the  Christ' 
child  himself. 

Love  could  do  nothing ;  and  when  we  barre  said 
that  we  have  said  all,  for  it  is  stronger  than  any- 
thing else  in  the  whole  wide  world.  Mrs.  and  Mrs. 
Bird  were  talking  it  over  one  evening  when  all  the 
children  were  asleep.  A  famous  physician  had 
visited  them  that  day,  and  told  them  that  some  time, 
it  might  be  in  one  year,  it  might  be  in  more,  Carol 
would  slip  quietly  off  into  heaven,  whence  she 
came. 


DROOPING    WINGS.  13 

"  It  is  no  use  to  shut  our  eyes  to  it  any  longer," 
said  Mr.  Bird,  as  he  paced  up  and  down  the  library 
floor ;  "  Carol  will  never  be  well  again.  It  almost 
seems  as  if  I  could  not  bear  it  when  I  think  of  that 
loveliest  child  doomed  to  lie  there  day  after  day, 
and,  what  is  still  more,  to  suffer  pain  that  we  are 
helpless  to  keep  away  from  her.  -  Merry  Christmas, 
indeed;  it  gets  to  be  the  saddest  day  in  the  year 
to  me  !  "  and  poor  Mr.  Bird  sank  into  a  chair  by  the 
table,  and  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  to  keep  his 
wife  from  seeing  the  tears  that  would  come  in  spite 
of  all  his  efforts. 

"  But,  Donald,  dear,"  said  sweet  Mrs.  Bird,  with 
trembling  voice,  "  Christmas  day  may  not  be  so 
merry  with  us  as  it  used,  but  it  is  very  happy,  and 
that  is  better,  and  very  blessed,  and  tha*t  is  better 
yet.  I  suffer  chiefly  for  Carol's  sake,  but  I  have 
almost  given  up  being  sorrowful  for  my  own.  I  am 
too  happy  in  the  child,  and  I  see  too  clearly  what 
she  has  done  for  us  and  the  other  children.  Donald 
and  Paul  and  Hugh  were  three  strong,  willful, 
boisterous  boys,  but  now  you  seldom  see  such  tender- 
ness, devotion,  thought  for  others,  and  self-denial  in 
lads  of  their  years.  A  quarrel  or  a  hot  word  is  almost 
unknown  in  this  house.  Why  ?  Carol  would  hear 
it,  and  it  would  distress  her,  she  is  so  full  of  love  and 


14  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

goodness.  The  boys  study  with  all  their  might  and 
main.  Why  ?  Partly,  at  least,  because  they  like  to 
teach  Carol,  and  amuse  her  by  telling  her  what  they 
read.  When  the  seamstress  comes,  she  likes  to  sew 
in  Miss  Carol's  room,  because  there  she  forgets  her 
own  troubles,  which,  Heaven  knows,  are  sore  enough  ! 
And  as  for  me,  Donald,  I  am  a  better  woman  every 
day  for  Carol's  sake  ;  I  have  to  be  her  eyes,  ears, 
feet,  hands,  —  her  strength,  her  hope  ;  and  she,  my 
own  little  child,  is  my  example  !  " 

"  I  was  wrong,  dear  heart,"  said  Mr.  Bird  more 
cheerfully ;  "  we.  will  try  not  to  repine,  but  to  re- 
joice instead,  that  we  have  an  c  angel  of  the  house ' 
like  Carol." 

"  And  as  for  her  future,"  Mrs.  Bird  went  on,  "  I 
think  we  need  not  be  over-anxious.  I  feel  as  if  she 
did  not  belong  altogether  to  us,  but  that  when  she 
has  done  what  God  sent  her  for,  He  will  take  her 
back  to  Himself  —  and  it  may  not  be  very  long ! " 
Here  it  was  poor  Mrs.  Bird's  turn  to  break  down, 
and  Mr.  Bird's  turn  to  comfort  her. 


m. 

THE   BIRD'S    NEST. 

AROL  herself  knew  nothing  of  motherly 
tears  and  fatherly  anxieties ;  she  lived  on 
peacefully  in  the  room  where  she  was 
born. 

But  you  never  would  have  known  that  room  ;  for 
Mr.  Bird  had  a  great  deal  of  money,  and  though  he 
felt  sometimes  as  if  he  wanted  to  throw  it  all  in  the 
ocean,  since  it  could  not  buy  a  strong  body  for  his 
little  girl,  yet  he  was  glad  to  make  the  place  she 
lived  in  just  as  beautiful  as  it  could  be. 

The  room  had  been  extended  by  the  building  of  a 
large  addition  that  hung  out  over  the  garden  below, 
and  was  so  filled  with  windows  that  it  might  have 
been  a  conservatory.  The  ones  on  the  side  were 
thus  still  nearer  the  little  Church  of  our  Saviour 
than  they  used  to  be ;  those  in  front  looked  out  on 
the  beautiful  harbor,  and  those  in  the  back  com- 
manded a  view  of  nothing  in  particular  but  a  little 
alley  ;  —  nevertheless,  they  were  pleasantest  of  all 


16  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

to  Carol,  for  the  Ruggles  family  lived  in  the  alley, 
and  the  nine  little,  middle-sized,  and  big  Ruggles 
children  were  a  source  of  inexhaustible  interest. 

The  shutters  could  all  be  opened  and  Carol  could 
take  a  real  sun-bath  in  this  lovely  glass  house,  or 
they  could  all  be  closed  when  the  dear  head  ached 
or  the  dear  eyes  were  tired.  The  carpet  was  of  soft 
gray,  with  clusters  of  green  bay  and  holly  leaves. 
The  furniture  was  of  white  wood,  on  which  an  artist 
had  painted  snow  scenes  and  Christmas  trees  and 
groups  of  merry  children  ringing  bells  and  singing 
carols. 

Donald  had  made  a  pretty,  polished  shelf  and 
screwed  it  on  the  outside  of  the  foot-board,  and  the 
boys  always  kept  this  full  of  blooming  plants,  which 
they  changed  from  time  to  time;  the  head-board, 
too,  had  a  bracket  on  either  side,  where  there  were 
pots  of  maiden-hair  ferns. 

Love-birds  and  canaries  hung  in  their  golden 
houses  in  the  windows,  and  they,  poor  caged  things, 
could  hop  as  far  from  their  wooden  perches  as 
Carol  could  venture  from  her  little  white  bed. 

On  one  side  of  the  room  was  a  bookcase  filled  with 
hundreds  —  yes,  I  mean  it  —  with  hundreds  and 
hundreds  of  books  ;  books  with  gay- colored  pictures, 
books  without ;  books  with  black  and  white  outline- 


THE  BIRD'S  NEST.  17 

sketches,  books  with  none  at  all ;  books  with  verses, 
books  with  stories  ;  books  that  made  children  laugh, 
and  some  that  made  them  cry  ;  books  with  words  of 
one  syllable  for  tiny  boys  and  girls,  and  books  with 
words  of  fearful  length  to  puzzle  wise  ones. 

This  was  Carol's  "  Circulating  Library."  Every 
Saturday  she  chose  ten  books,  jotting  their  names 
down  in  a  little  diary ;  into  these  she  slipped  cards 
that  said :  "  Please  keep  this  book  two  weeks  and 
read  it.     With  love,  Carol  Bird." 

Then  Mrs.  Bird  stepped  into  her  carriage  and 
took  the  ten  books  to  the  Children's  Hospital,  and 
brought  home  ten  others  that  she  had  left  there  the 
fortnight  before. 

This*  was  a  source  of  great  happiness ;  for  some  of 
the  Hospital  children  that  were  old  enough  to  print 
or  write,  and  were  strong  enough  to  do  it,  wrote 
Carol  sweet  little  letters  about  the  books,  and  she 
answered  them,  and  they  grew  to  be  friends.  (It 
is  very  funny,  but  you  do  not  always  have  to  see 
people  to  love  them.  Just  think  about  it,  and  see 
if  it  is  n't  so.) 

There  was  a  high  wainscoting  of  wood  about  the 
room,  and  on  top  of  this,  in  a  narrow  gilt  framework, 
ran  a  row  of  illuminated  pictures,  illustrating  fairy 
tales,  all  in  dull  blue  and  gold  and  scarlet  and  silver. 


18  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

From  the  door  to  the  closet  there  was  the  story  of 
"  The  Fair  One  with  Golden  Locks;  "  from  closet  to 
bookcase,  ran  "  Puss  in  Boots ; "  from  bookcase  to 
fireplace,  was  "  Jack  the  Giant-killer ; "  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  room  were  "  Hop  o'  my  Thumb," 
"  The  Sleeping  Beauty,"   and  "  Cinderella." 

Then  there  was  a  great  closet  full  of  beautiful 
things  to  wear,  but  they  were  all  dressing-gowns  and 
slippers  and  shawls ;  and  there  were  drawers  full  of 
toys  and  games,  but  they  were  such  as  you  could 
play  with  on  your  lap.  There  were  no  ninepins,  nor 
balls,  nor  bows  and  arrows,  nor  bean  bags,  nor  ten- 
nis rackets ;  but,  after  all,  other  children  needed 
these  more  than  Carol  Bird,  for  she  was  always 
happy  and  contented,  whatever  she  had  or  whatever 
she  lacked ;  and  after  the  room  had  been  made  so 
lovely  for  her,  on  her  eighth  Christmas,  she  always 
called  herself,  in  fun,  a  "  Bird  of  Paradise." 

On  these  particular  December  days  she  was  happier 
than  usual,  for  Uncle  Jack  was  coming  from  Europe 
to  spend  the  holidays.  Dear,  funny,  jolly,  loving, 
wise  Uncle  Jack,  who  came  every  two  or  three  years, 
and  brought  so  much  joy  with  him  that  the  world 
looked  as  black  as  a  thunder-cloud  for  a  week  after 
he  went  away  again. 

The  mail  had  brought  this  letter  :  — 


THE  BIRD'S  NES7\  19 

London,  Nov.  28th,  188-. 

Wish  you  merry  Christmas,  you  dearest  birdlings  in  America  ! 
Preen  your  feathers,  and  stretch  the  Birds'  nest  a  little,  if  you 
please,  and  let  Uncle  Jack  in  for  the  holidays.  I  am  coming 
with  such  a  trunk  full  of  treasures  that  you  '11  have  to  borrow 
the  stockings  of  Barnum's  Giant  and  Giantess  ;  I  am  coming 
to  squeeze  a  certain  little  lady-bird  until  she  cries  for  mercy ;  I 
am  coming  to  see  if  I  can  find  a  boy  to  take  care  of  a  little  black 
pony  that  I  bought  lately.  It 's  the  strangest  thing  I  ever  knew ; 
I  've  hunted  all  over  Europe,  and  can't  find  a  boy  to  suit  me ! 
I  '11  tell  you  why.  I  've  set  my  heart  on  finding  one  with  a 
dimple  in  his  chin,  because  this  pony  particularly  likes  dimples ! 
["Hurrah  !  "  cried  Hugh ;  "  bless  my  dear  dimple  ;  I'll  never  be 
ashamed  of  it  again."] 

Please  drop  a  note  to  the  clerk  of  the  weather,  and  have  a 
good,  rousing  snow-storm  —  say  on  the  twenty-second.  None  of 
your  meek,  gentle,  nonsensical,  shilly-shallying  snow-storms ;  not 
the  sort  where  the  flakes  float  lazily  down  from  the  sky  as  if 
they  did  n't  care  whether  they  ever  got  here  or  not  and  then 
melt  away  as  soon  as  they  touch  the  earth,  but  a  regular  busi- 
ness-like whizzing,  whirring,  blurring,  cutting  snow-storm,  war- 
ranted to  freeze  and  stay  on  ! 

I  should  like  rather  a  LARGE  Christmas  tree,  if  it 's  con- 
venient :  not  one  of  those  "  sprigs,"  five  or  six  feet  high,  that 
you  used  to  have  three  or  four  years  ago,  when  the  birdlings 
were  not  fairly  feathered  out,  but  a  tree  of  some  size.  Set  it  up 
in  the  garret,  if  necessary,  and  then  we  can  cut  a  hole  in  the  roof 
if  the  tree  chances  to  be  too  high  for  the  room. 

Tell  Bridget  to  begin  to  fatten  a  turkey.  Tell  her  that  by  the 
twentieth  of  December  that  turkey  must  not  be  able  to  stand  on 
its  legs  for  fat,  and  then  on  the  next  three  days  she  must  allow 


20  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

it  to  recline  easily  on  its  side,  and  stuff  it  to  bursting.  (One 
ounce  of  stuffing  beforehand  is  worth  a  pound  afterwards.) 

The  pudding  must  be  unusually  huge,  and  darkly,  deeply,  lu- 
gubriously blue  in  color.  It  must  be  stuck  so  full  of  plums  that 
the  pudding  itself  will  ooze  out  into  the  pan  and  not  be  brought 
on  to  the  table  at  all.  I  expect  to  be  there  by  the  twentieth,  to 
manage  these  little  things  myself,  —  remembering  it  is  the  early 
Bird  that  catches  the  worm,  —  but  give  you  the  instructions  in 
case  I  should  be  delayed. 

And  Carol  must  decide  on  the  size  of  the  tree  —  she  knows 
best,  she  was  a  Christmas  child  ;  and  she  must  plead  for  the 
snow-storm  —  the  "  clerk  of  the  weather  "  may  pay  some  atten- 
tion to  her ;  and  she  must  look  up  the  boy  with  the  dimple  for 
me  —  she  's  likelier  to  find  him  than  I  am,  this  minute.  She 
must  advise  about  the  turkey,  and  Bridget  must  bring  the  pud- 
ding to  her  bedside  and  let  her  drop  every  separate  plum  into  it 
and  stir  it  once  for  luck,  or  I  '11  not  eat  a  single  slice  —  for  Carol 
is  the  dearest  part  of  Christmas  to  Uncle  Jack,  and  he  '11  have 
none  of  it  without  her.  She  is  better  than  all  the  turkeys  and 
puddings  and  apples  and  spare-ribs  and  wreaths  and  garlands 
and  mistletoe  and  stockings  and  chimneys  and  sleigh-bells  in 
Christendom  !  She  is  the  very  sweetest  Christmas  Carol  that 
was  ever  written,  said,  sung,  or  chanted,  and  I  am  coming,  as 
fast  as  ships  and  railway  trains  can  carry  me,  to  tell  her  so. 

Carol's  joy  knew  no  bounds.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bird 
laughed  like  children  and  kissed  each  other  for  sheer 
delight,  and  when  the  boys  heard  it  they  simply 
whooped  like  wild  Indians  j  until  the  Ruggles  family, 
whose  back  yard  joined  their  garden,  gathered  at  the 
door  and  wondered  what  was  "  up  "  in  the  big  house. 


IV. 


"birds  of  a  feather  flock  together." 


NCLE  Jack  did  really  come  on  the  twentieth. 
He  was  not  detained  by  business,  nor  did 


^SjSajjj  he  get  left  behind  nor  snowed  up,  as  fre- 
quently happens  in  stories,  and  in  real  life  too,  I  am 
afraid.  The  snow-storm  came  also ;  and  the  turkey 
nearly  died  a  natural  and  premature  death  from 
overeating.  Donald  came,  too  ;  Donald,  with  a  line 
of  down  upon  his  upper  lip,  and  Greek  and  Latin  on 
his  tongue,  and  stores  of  knowledge  in  his  handsome 
head,  and  stories  —  bless  me,  you  could  n't  turn 
over  a  chip  without  reminding  Donald  of  something 
that  happened  "  at  College."  One  or  the  other  was 
always  at  Carol's  bedside,  for  they  fancied  her  paler 
than  she  used  to  be,  and  they  could  not  bear  her  out 
of  sight.  It  was  Uncle  Jack,  though,  who  sat  beside 
her  in  the  winter  twilights.  The  room  was  quiet, 
and  almost  dark,  save  for  the  snow-light  outside, 
and  the  nickering  flame  of  the  fire,  that  danced  over 
the  "  Sleeping  Beauty's  "  face  and  touched  the  Fair 


22  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

One's  golden  locks  with  ruddier  glory.  Carol's  hand 
(all  too  thin  and  white  these  latter  days)  lay  close 
clasped  in  Uncle  Jack's,  and  they  talked  together 
quietly  of  many,  many  things. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  all  about  my  plans  for  Christ- 
mas this  year,  Uncle  Jack,"  said  Carol,  on  the  first 
evening  of  his  visit,  "  because  it  will  be  the  loveliest 
one  I  ever  had.  The  boys  laugh  at  me  for  caring  so 
much  about  it ;  but  it  is  n't  altogether  because  it  is 
Christmas  nor  because  it  is  my  birthday  ;  but  long, 
long  ago,  when  I  first  began  to  be  ill,  I  used  to 
think,  the  first  thing  when  I  waked  on  Christmas 
morning, '  To-day  is  Christ's  birthday  —  and  mine! ' 
I  did  not  put  the  words  close  together,  you  know, 
because  that  made  it  seem  too  bold ;  but  I  first  said, 
e  Christ's  birthday,'  out  loud,  and  then,  in  a  minute, 
softly  to  myself  — '  and  mine  ! '  '  Christ's  birthday 
—  and  mine  ! '  And  so  I  do  not  quite  feel  about 
Christmas  as  other  girls  do.  Mamma  says  she  sup- 
poses that  ever  so  many  other  children  have  been 
born  on  that  day.  I  often  wonder  where  they  are, 
Uncle  Jack,  and  whether  it  is  a  dear  thought  to 
them,  too,  or  whether  I  am  so  much  in  bed,  and  so 
often  alone,  that  it  means  more  to  me.  Oh,  I  do 
hope  that  none  of  them  are  poor,  or  cold,  or  hun- 
gry ;  and  I  wish,  I  wish  they  were  all  as  happy  as  I, 


BIRDS   OF  A   FEATHER   FLOCK    TOGETHER.     23 

because  they  are  really  my  little  brothers  and  sisters. 
Now,  Uncle  Jack  dear,  I  am  going  to  try  and  make 
somebody  happy  every  single  Christmas  that  I  live, 
and  this  year  it  is  to  be  the  '  Ruggleses  in  the 
rear.'  " 

"  That  large  and  interesting  brood  of  children  in 
the  little  house  at  the  end  of  the  back  garden  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  is  n't  it  nice  to  see  so  many  together  ?  — 
and,  Uncle  Jack,  why  do  the  big  families  always 
live  in  the  little  houses,  and  the  little  families  in  the 
big  houses  ?  We  ought  to  call  them  the  Ruggles 
children,  of  course ;  but  Donald  began  talking  of 
them  as  the  '  Ruggleses  in  the  rear,'  and  Papa  and 
Mamma  took  it  up,  and  now  we  cannot  seem  to  help 
it.  The  house  was  built  for  Mr.  Carter's  coachman, 
but  Mr.  Carter  lives  in  Europe,  and  the  gentleman 
who  rents  his  place  for  him  does  n't  care  what  hap- 
pens to  it,  and  so  this  poor  family  came  to  live  there. 
When  they  first  moved  in,  I  used  to  sit  in  my  win- 
dow and  watch  them  play  in  their  back  yard  ;  they 
are  so  strong,  and  jolly,  and  good-natured ;  —  and 
then,  one  day,  I  had  a  terrible  headache,  and  Donald 
asked  them  if  they  would  please  not  scream  quite  so 
loud,  and  they  explained  that  they  were  having  a 
game  of  circus,  but  that  they  would  change  and  play 
'  Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum  '  all  the  afternoon." 


24  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

u  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Uncle  Jack,  "  what  an 
obliging1  family,  to  be  sure." 

66  Yes,  we  all  thought  it  very  funny,  and  I  smiled  at 
them  from  the  window  when  I  was  well  enough  to  be 
up  again.  Now,  Sarah  Maud  comes  to  her  door  when 
the  children  come  home  from  school,  and  if  Mamma 
nods  her  head, '  Yes,'  that  means  '  Carol  is  very  well,' 
and  then  you  ought  to  hear  the  little  Ruggleses  yell, 
—  I  believe  they  try  to  see  how  much  noise  they  can 
make ;  but  if  Mamma  shakes  her  head,  ' No,'  they 
always  play  at  quiet  games.  Then,  one  day,  e  Cary/ 
my  pet  canary,  flew  out  of  her  cage,  and  Peter  Rug- 
gles  caught  her  and  brought  her  back,  and  I  had 
him  up  here  in  my  room  to  thank  him." 

"  Is  Peter  the  oldest  ?  " 

"  No ;  Sarah  Maud  is  the  oldest  —  she  helps  do 
the  washing ;  and  Peter  is  the  next.  He  is  a  dress- 
maker's boy." 

"  And  which  is  the  pretty  little  red-haired  girl  ?  " 

"  That 's  Kitty." 

"  And  the  fat  youngster  ?  " 

"  Baby  Larry." 

"  And  that  —  most  —  freckled  one  ?  " 

"  Now,  don't  laugh  —  that 's  Peoria." 

"Carol,  you  are  joking." 

"  No,  really,  Uncle  dear.  She  was  born  in  Peoria ; 
that 's  all." 


BIRDS   OF  A    FEATHER   FLOCK   TOGETHER.       25 

"  And  is  the  next  boy  Oshkosh  ?  " 

"  No,"  laughed  Carol,  "  the  others  are  Susan,  and 
Clement,  and  Eily,  and  Cornelius  ;  they  all  look 
exactly  alike  except  that  some  of  them  have  more 
freckles  than  the  others." 

"  How  did  you  ever  learn  all  their  names  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  have  what  I  call  a  '  window-school.'  It 
is  too  cold  now ;  but  in  warm  weather  I  am  wheeled 
out  on  my  little  balcony,  and  the  Ruggleses  climb 
up  and  walk  along  our  garden  fence,  and  sit  down  on 
the  roof  of  our  carriage-house.  That  brings  them 
quite  near,  and  I  read  to  them  and  tell  them  stories. 
On  Thanksgiving  Day  they  came  up  for  a  few  min- 
utes, —  it  was  quite  warm  at  eleven  o'clock,  —  and 
we  told  each  other  what  we  had  to  be  thankful  for  5 
but  they  gave  such  queer  answers  that  Papa  had  to 
run  away  for  fear  of  laughing ;  and  I  could  n't  un- 
derstand them  very  well.  Susan  was  thankful  for 
e  trunks,''  of  all  things  in  the  world ;  Cornelius,  for 
6  horse-cars  ; '  Kitty,  for  i  pork  steak ; '  while  Clem, 
who  is  very  quiet,  brightened  up  when  I  came  to 
him,  and  said  he  was  thankful  for  (  his  lame  puppy.' 
Was  n't  that  pretty?" 

"  It  might  teach  some  of  us  a  lesson,  might  Vt  it, 
little  girl?" 

"  That 's  what  Mamma  said.       Now  I  'm  going  to 


26  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

give  this  whole  Christmas  to  the  Ruggleses;  and. 
Uncle  Jack,  I  earned  part  of  the  money  myself." 

"  You,  my  bird ;  how  ?  " 

"Well,  you  see,  it  could  not  be  my  own,  own 
Christmas  if  Papa  gave  me  all  the  money,  and  I 
thought  to  really  keep  Christ's  birthday  I  ought  to 
do  something  of  my  very  own  ;  and  so  I  talked 
with  Mamma.  Of  course  she  thought  of  something 
lovely ;  she  always  does :  Mamma's  head  is  just 
brimming  over  with  lovely  thoughts,  —  all  I  have 
to  do  is  ask,  and  out  pops  the  very  one  I  want.  - 
This  thought  was  to  let  her  write  down,  just  as  I 
told  her,  a  description  of  how  a  little  girl  lived  in 
her  own  room  for  three  years,  and  what  she  did  to 
amuse  herself;  and  we  sent  it  to  a  magazine  and 
got  twenty-five  dollars  for  it.     Just  think  !  " 

"  Well,  well,"  cried  Uncle  Jack,  "  my  little  girl  a 
real  author  !  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
this  wonderful  '  own '  money  of  yours  ?  " 

"  I  shall  give  the  nine  Ruggleses  a  grand  Christ- 
mas dinner  here  in  this  very  room  —  that  will  be 
Papa's  contribution,  —  and  afterwards  a  beautiful 
Christmas  tree,  fairly  blooming  with  presents  — 
that  will  be  my  part ;  for  I  have  another  way  of 
adding  to  my  twenty-five  dollars,  so  that  I  can 
buy  everything  I  like.     I  should  like  it  very  much 


BIRDS   OF  A   FEATHER  FLOCK   TOGETHER.      27 

if  you  would  sit  at  the  head  of  the  table,  Uncle 
Jack,  for  nobody  could  ever  be  frightened  of  you, 
yfcu  dearest,  dearest,  dearest  thing  that  ever  was! 
Mamma  is  going  to  help  us,  but  Papa  and  the  boys 
are  going  to  eat  together  downstairs  for  fear  of 
making  the  little  Ruggleses  shy  j  and  after  we  've 
had  a  merry  time  with  the  tree  we  can  open  my  win- 
dow and  all  listen  together  to  the  music  at  the  even- 
ing  church-service,  if  it  comes  before*  the  children 
go.  I  have  written  a  letter  to  the  organist,  and 
j,sked  him  if  I  might  have  the  two  songs  I  like  best. 
W  ill  you  see  if  it  is  all  right  ?  " 

Birds'  Nest,  Dec.  21st,  188-. 

Dear  Mr.  Wilkie,  —  I  am  the  little  sick  girl  who  lives 
next  door  to  the  church,  and,  as  I  seldom  go  out,  the  music  on 
practice  days  and  Sundays  is  one  of  my  greatest  pleasures. 

I  want  to  know  if  you  can  have  "  Carol,  brothers,,  carol,"  on 
Christmas  night,  and  if  the  boy  who  sings  "  My  ain  countree  " 
so  beautifully  may  please  sing  that  too.  I  think  it  is  the  love- 
liest thing  in  the  world,  but  it  always  make  me  cry ;  does  n't 
it  you  ? 

If  it  is  n't  too  much  trouble,  I  hope  they  can  sing  them  both 
quite  early,  as  after  ten  o'clock  I  may  be  asleep. 

Yours  Respectfully,  Carol  Bird. 

P.  S.  —  The  reason  I  like  "  Carol,  brothers,  carol,"  is  because 
the  choir-boys  sang  it  eleven  years  ago,  the  morning  I  was  born, 
and  put  it  into  Mamma's  head  to  call  me  Carol.  She  did  n't 
remember  then  that  my  other   name  would  be  Bird,  because 


28  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

she  was  half  asleep,  and  could  only  think  of  one  thing  at  a  time. 
Donald  says  if  I  had  been  born  on  the  Fourth  of  July  they 
would  have  named  me  "  Independence,"  or  if  on  the  twenty- 
second  of  February,  "  Georgina,"  or  even  "  Cherry,"  like  Cherry 
in  "  Martin  Chuzzlewit ; "  but  I  like  my  own  name  and  birth- 
day best.  Yours  truly, 

Carol  Bird. 


Uncle  Jack  thought  the  letter  quite  right,  and  did 
not  even  smite  at  her  telling  the  organist  so  many 
family  items. 

The  days  flew  by  as  they  always  fly  in  holiday 
time,  and  it  was  Christmas  eve  before  anybody  knew 
it.  The  family  festival  was  quiet  and  very  pleasant, 
but  almost  overshadowed  by  the  grander  preparations 
for  the  next  day.  Carol  and  Elfrida,  her  pretty 
German  nurse,  had  ransacked  books,  and  introduced 
so  many  plans,  and  plays,  and  customs,  and  merry- 
makings from  Germany,  and  Holland,  and  England, 
and  a  dozen  other  countries,  that  you  would  scarcely 
have  known  how  or  where  you  were  keeping  Christ- 
mas. Even  the  dog  and  the  cat  had  enjoyed  their 
celebration  under  Carol's  direction.  Each  had  a 
tiny  table  with  a  lighted  candle  in  the  centre,  and 
a  bit  of  Bologna  sausage  placed  very  near  it ;  and 
everybody  laughed  till  the  tears  stood  in  their  eyes 
to  see  Yillikins  and  Dinah  struggle  to  nibble  the 


BIRDS   OF  A   FEATHER   FLOCK   TOGETHER.      29 

sausages,  and  at  the  same  time  to  evade  the  candle 
flame.  Villikins  barked,  and  sniffed,  and  howled  in 
impatience,  and  after  many  vain  attempts  succeeded 
in  dragging  off  the  prize,  though  he  singed  his  nose 
in  doing  it.  Dinah,  meanwhile,  watched  him  placidly, 
her  delicate  nostrils  quivering  with  expectation,  and, 
after  all  excitement  had  subsided,  walked  with  dig- 
nity to  the  table,  her  beautiful  gray  satin  trail  sweej> 
ing  behind  her,  and,  calmly  putting  up  one  velvet 
paw,  drew  the  sausage  gently  down,  and  walked  out 
..of  the  room  without  "  turning  a  hair,"  so  to  speak. 
Elfrida  had  scattered  handfuls  of  seed  over  the 
snow  in  the  garden,  that  the  wild  birds  might  have 
a  comfortable  breakfast  next  morning,  and  had 
stuffed  bundles  of  dry  grasses  in  the  fireplaces,  so 
that  the  reindeer  of  Santa  Claus  could  refresh  them- 
selves after  their  long  gallops  across  country.  This 
was  really  only  done  for  fun,  but  it  pleased  Carol. 

And  when,  after  dinner,  the  whole  family  had 
gone  to  church  to  see  the  Christmas  decorations, 
Carol  limped  out  on  her  little  crutches,  and  with 
Elfrida's  help,  placed  all  the  family  boots  in  a  row 
in  the  upper  hall.  That  was  to  keep  the  dear  ones 
from  quarreling  all  through  the  year.  There  were 
Papa's  stout  top  boots;  Mamma's  pretty  buttoned 
shoes  next;   then  Uncle  Jack's,  Donald's,  Paul's, 


30 


THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 


and  Hugh's ;  and  at  the  end  o£  the  line  her  own 
little  white  worsted  slippers.  Last,  and  sweetest  of 
all,  like  the  little  children  in  Austria,  she  put  a 
lighted  candle  in  her  window  to  guide  the  dear 
Christ  -  child,  lest  he  should  stumble  in  the  dark 
night  as  he'  passed  up  the  deserted  street.  Thk 
done,  she  dropped  into  bed,  a  rather  tired,  but  very 
happy  Christmas  fairy. 


^f^Wl^^W 


V. 

SOME    OTHER   BIRDS   ARE   TAUGHT   TO    FLY. 


EFORE  the  earliest  Ruggles  could  wake 
and  toot  his  five-cent  tin  horn,  Mrs.  Rug- 
gles was  up  and  stirring  about  the  house, 
for  it  was  a  gala  day  in  the  family.  Gala  day !  I 
should  think  so  !  Were  not  her  nine  u  childern  " 
invited  to  a  dinner-party  at  the  great  house,  and 
were  n't  they  going  to  sit  down  free  and  equal  with 
the  mightiest  in  the  land  ?  She  had  been  preparing 
for  this  grand  occasion  ever  since  the  receipt  of  the 
invitation,  which,  by  the  way,  had  been  speedily  en- 
shrined in  an  old  photograph  frame  and  hung  under 
the  looking-glass  in  the  most  prominent  place  in  the 
kitchen,  where  it  stared  the  occasional  visitor  di- 
rectly in  the  eye,  and  made  him  livid  with  envy :  — 

Birds'  Nest,  Dec.  17th,  188-. 

Dear  Mrs.  Ruggles,  — I  am  going  to  have  a  dinner-party 

on   Christmas   day,  and  would   like  to  have  all  your  children 

come.     I  want  them  every  one,  please,  from  Sarah  Maud  to 

Baby  Larry.     Mamma  says  dinner  will  be  at  half  past  five,  and 


32  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

the  Christmas  tree  at  seven ;  so  you  may  expect  them  home  at 
nine  o'  clock.  Wishing  you  a  Merry  Christmas  and  a  Happy 
New  Year,  I  am,  yours  truly, 

Carol  Bird. 

Breakfast  was  on  the  table  promptly  at  seven 
o'clock,  and  there  was  very  little  of  it,  too ;  for  it 
was  an  excellent  day  for  short  rations,  though  MrSo 
Ruggles  heaved  a  sigh  as  she  reflected  that  the 
boys,  with  their  India-rubber  stomachs,  would  be 
just  as  hungry  the  day  after  the  dinner-party  as  if 
they  had  never  had  any  at  all. 

As  soon  as  the  scanty  meal  was  over,  she  an- 
nounced the  plan  of  the  campaign  :  "  Now  Susan, 
you  an'  Kitty  wash  up  the  dishes ;  an'  Peter,  can't 
yer  spread  up  the  beds,  so  't  I  can  git  ter  cuttin'  out 
Larry's  new  suit  ?  I  ain't  satisfied  with  his  clo'se, 
an'  I  thought  in  the  night  of  a  way  to  make  him  a 
dress  out  o'  my  old  red  plaid  shawl  —  kind  o'  Scotch 
style,  yer  know,  with  the  fringe  't  the  bottom.  — 
Eily,  you  go  find  the  comb  and  take  the  snarls  out 
the  fringe.  You  little  boys  clear  out  from  under 
foot !  Clem,  you  and  Con  hop  into  bed  with  Larry 
while  I  wash  yer  underflannins;  't  won't  take  long 
to  dry  'em.  —  Yes,  I  know  it 's  bothersome,  but  yer 
can't  go  int'  s'ciety  'thout  takin'  some  trouble,  V 
anyhow  I  could  n't  git  round  to  'em  last  night.  — 


SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  ARE  TAUGHT  TO  FLY.     33 

Sarah  Maud,  I  think  't  would  be  perfeckly  han'som' 
if  you  ripped  them  brass  buttons  off  yer  uncle's 
policeman's  coat  'n'  sewed  'em  in  a  row  up  the  front 
o'  yer  green  skirt.  Susan,  you  must  iron  out  yours 
'n'  Kitty's  apurns ;  'n'  there,  I  come  mighty  near 
forgettin'  Peory's  stockin's !  I  counted  the  whole 
lot  last  nisfht  when  I  was  washin'  of  'em,  'n'  there 
ain't  but  nineteen  anyhow  yer  fix  'em,  'n'  no  nine 
pairs  mates  nohow;  'n'  I  ain't  goin'  ter  have  my 
childern  wear  odd  stockin's  to  a  dinner-comp'ny, 
fetched  up  as  I  was  !  —  Eily,  can't  you  run  out  and 
ask  Mis'  Cullen  ter  lend  me  a  pair  o'  stockin's  for 
Peory,  'n'  tell  her  if  she  will,  Peory  '11  give  Jim 
half  her  candy  when  she  gets  home.  Won't  yer, 
Peory?" 

Peoria  was  young  and  greedy,  and  thought  the 
remedy  so  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  disease,  that 
she  set  up  a  deafening  howl  at  the  projected  bargain 
—  a  howl  so  rebellious  and  so  entirely  out  of  season 
that  her  mother  started  in  her  direction  with  flash- 
ing eye  and  uplifted  hand ;  but  she  let  it  fall  sud- 
denly, saying,  "  No,  I  vow  I  won't  lick  ye  Christmas 
day,  if  yer  drive  me  crazy;  but  speak  up  smart, 
now,  'n'  say  whether  yer  'd  ruther  give  Jim  Cullen 
half  yer  candy  or  go  bare-legged  ter  the  party  ?  " 
The  matter  being  put  so  plainly,  Peoria  collected  her 


34  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

faculties,  dried  her  tears,  and  chose  the  lesser  evil, 
Clem  having  hastened  the  decision  by  an  affection- 
ate wink,  that  meant  he'd  go  halves  with  her  on 
his  candy. 

"  That 's  a  lady  ; "  cried  her  mother.  "  Now,  you 
young  ones  that  ain't  doin'  nothin',  play  all  yer  want 
ter  before  noontime,  for  after  ye  git  through  eatin' 
at  twelve  o'clock  me  'n'  Sarah  Maud  's  goin'  ter  give 
yer  sech  a  washin'  'n'  combin'  'n'  dressin'  as  yer 
never  had  before  'n'  never  will  agin  likely,  'n'  then 
I  'm  goin'  to  set  yer  down  'n'  give  yer  two  solid 
hours  trainin'  in  manners  ;  5n'  't  won't  be  no  foolin' 
neither."  4 

"  All  we  've  got  ter  do 's  go  eat !  "  grumbled  Peter. 

"  Well,  that 's  enough,"  responded  his  mother ; 
"  there 's  more  'n  one  way  of  eatin',  let  me  tell  yer, 
'n'  you've  got  a  heap  ter  learn. about  it,  Peter  Bug- 
gies. Land  sakes,  I  wish  you  children  could  see  the 
way  I  was  fetched  up  to  eat.  I  never  took  a  meal 
o'  vittles  in  the  kitchen  before  I  married  Ruggles ; 
but  yer  can't  keep  up  that  style  with  nine  young 
ones  'n'  yer  Pa  always  off  ter  sea." 

The  big  Ruggleses  worked  so  well,  and  the  little 
Ruggleses  kept  from  "  under  foot "  so  successfully, 
that  by  one  o'clock  nine  complete  toilets  were  laid 
out  in  solemn  grandeur  on  the  beds.     I  say,  "  com- 


SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  ARE   TAUGHT  TO  FLY.     35 

plete  ;  "  but  I  do  not  know  whether  they  would  be 
called  so  in  the  best  society.  The  law  of  compensa- 
tion had  been  well  applied :  he  that  had  necktie  had 
no  cuffs ;  she  that  had  sash  had  no  handkerchief, 
and  vice  versa  ;  but  they  all  had  shoes  and  a  certain 
amount  of  clothing,  such  as  it  was,  the  outside  layer 
being  in  every  case  quite  above  criticism. 

"  Now,  Sarah  Maud,"  said  Mrs.  Ruggles,  her  face 
shining  with  excitement,  "  everything  's  red  up  an' 
we  can  begin.  I  've  got  a  boiler  V  a  kettle  'n*  a 
pot  o'  hot  water.  Peter,  you  go  into  the  back  bed- 
room, 'n'  I  '11  take  Susan,  Kitty,  Peory,  V  Corne- 
lius; 'n'  Sarah  Maud$  you  take  Clem,  'n'  Eily,'n' 
Larry,  one  to  a  time.  Scrub  'em  'n'  rinse  'em,  or 
't  any  rate  git  's  fur  's  yer  can  with  'em,  and  then 
I  '11  finish  'em  off  while  you  do  yerself ." 

Sarah  Maud  could  n't  have  scrubbed  with  any 
more  decision  and  force  if  she  had  been  doing  floors, 
and  the  little  Ruggleses  bore  it  bravely,  not  from 
natural  heroism,  but  for  the  joy  that  was  set  be- 
fore them.  Not  being  satisfied,  however,  with  the 
"  tone  "  of  their  complexions,  and  feeling  that  the 
number  of  freckles  to  the  square  inch  was  too  many 
to  be  tolerated  in  the  highest  social  circles,  she 
wound  up  operations  by  applying  a  little  Bristol 
brick  from  the  knife-board,  which  served  as  the  pro- 


36  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

verbial  "last  straw,"  from  under  which  the  little 
Ruggleses  issued  rather  red  and  raw  and  out  of  tem- 
per. When  the  clock  struck  four  they  were  all 
clothed,  and  most  of  them  in  their  right  minds, 
ready  for  those  last  touches  that  always  take  the 
most  time. 

Kitty's  red  hair  was  curled  in  thirty-four  ringlets, 
Sarah  Maud's  was  braided  in  one  pig-tail,  and 
Susan's  and  Eily's  in  two  braids  apiece,  while 
Peoria's  resisted  all  advances  in  the  shape  of  hair 
oils  and  stuck  out  straight  on  all  sides,  like  that  of 
the  Circassian  girl  of  the  circus  —  so  Clem  said  ;  and 
he  was  sent  into  the  bedrqpm  for  it,  too,  from 
whence  he  was  dragged  out  forgivingly  by  Peoria 
herself,  five  minutes  later.  Then,  exciting  moment, 
came  linen  collars  for  some  and  neckties  and  bows 
for  others,  —  a  magnificent  green  glass  breastpin  was 
sewed  into  Peter's  purple  necktie,  —  and  Eureka  ! 
the  Ruggleses  were  dressed,  and  Solomon  in  all  his 
glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these  ! 

A  row  of  seats  was  then  formed  directly  through 
the  middle  of  the  kitchen.  Of  course  there  were 
not  quite  chairs  enough  for  ten,  since  the  family  had 
rarely  wanted  to  sit  down  all  at  once,  somebody 
always  being  out,  or  in  bed,  but  the  wood -box  and 
the  coal-hod  finished  out  the  line  nicely.     The  chil- 


•I   WANT   TER    SEE    HOW   YER   QOIN"   TO    BEHAVE."     Page  37. 


SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  ARE   TAUGHT  TO  FLY.     39 

dren  took  their  places  according  to  age,  Sarah  Maud 
at  the  head  and  Larry  on  the  coal-hod,  and  Mrs. 
Ruggles  seated  herself  in  front,  surveying  them 
proudly  as  she  wiped  the  sweat  of  honest  toil  from 
her  brow. 

"  Well,"  she  exclaimed,  "if  I  do  say  so  as 
shoidd  n't,  I  never  see  a  cleaner,  more  stylish  mess 
o'  childern  in  my  life!  I  do  wish  Ruggles  could 
look  at  ye  for  a  minute !  —  Larry  Ruggles,  how 
many  times  have  I  got  ter  tell  yer  not  ter  keep 
pullin,  at  yer  sash  ?  Have  n't  I  told  yer  if  it  comes 
ontied,  yer  waist  'n'  skirt  '11  part  comp'ny  in  the 
middle,  'n'  then  where  '11  yer  be  ?  —  Now  look  me 
in  the  eye,  all  of  yer !  I  've  of 'en  told  yer  what 
kind  of  a  family  the  McGrills  was.  I  've  got  reason 
to  be  proud,  goodness  knows  !  Your  Uncle  is  on 
the  police  force  o'  New  York  city  ;  you  can  take  up 
the  paper  most  any  day  an'  see  his  name  printed  out 
—  James  McGrill,  —  'n'  I  can't  have  my  children 
fetched  up  common,  like  some  folks' ;  when  they  go 
out  they  've  got  to  have  close,  and  learn  to  act 
decent !  Now  I  want  ter  see  how  yer  goin'  to  be- 
have when  yer  git  there  to-night.  Let 's  start  in  at 
the  beginnin'  'n'  act  out  the  whole  business.  Pile 
into  the  bedroom,  there,  every  last  one  of  ye,  'n' 
show  me  how  yer  goin'  to  go  int'  the  parlor  This  '11 
be  the  parlor,  V  I  '11  be  Mis'  Bird." 


40  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

The  youngsters  hustled  into  the  next  room  in  high 
glee,  and  Mrs.  Euggles  drew  herself  up  in  the.  chair 
with  an  infinitely  haughty  and  purse-proud  expres- 
sion that  much  better  suited  a  descendant  of  the 
McGrills  than  modest  Mrs.  Bird. 

The  bedroom  was  small,  and  there  presently  ensued 
such  a  clatter  that  you  would  have  thought  a  herd 
of  wild  cattle  had  broken  loose.  The  door  opened, 
and  they  straggled  in,  all  the  little  ones  giggling, 
with  Sarah  Maud  at  the  head,  looking  as  if  she  had 
been  caught  in  the  act  of  stealing  sheep ;  while 
Larry,  being  last  in  line,  seemed  to  think  the  door  a 
sort  of  gate  of  heaven  which  would  be  shut  in  his 
face  if  he  did  n't  get  there  in  time ;  accordingly  he 
struggled  ahead  of  his  elders  and  disgraced  himself 
by  tumbling  in  head  foremost. 

Mrs.  Ruggles  looked  severe.  "There,  I  knew 
yer'd  do  it  in  some  sech  fool  way!  Now  go  in 
there  and  try  it  over  again,  every  last  one  o'  ye,  'n' 
if  Larry  can't  come  in  on  two  legs  he  can  stay  ter 
home,  —  d'  yer  hear  ?  " 

The  matter  began  to  assume  a  graver  aspect ;  the 
little  Ruggleses  stopped  giggling  and  backed  into  the 
bedroom,  issuing  presently  with  lock  step,  Indian 
file,  a  scared  and  hunted  expression  in  every  counte- 
nance. 


SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  ARE  TAUGHT  TO  FLY.      41 

"  No,  no,  no ! "  cried  Mrs.  Ruggles,  in  despair. 
"  That 's  worse  yet ;  yer  look  for  all  the  world  like 
a  gang  o'  pris'ners  !  There  ain't  no  style  ter  that : 
spread  out  more,  can't  yer,  'n'  act  kind  o'  careless 
like  —  nobody  's  goin'  ter  kill  ye  !  "  The  third  time 
brought  deserved  success,  and  the  pupils  took  their 
seats  in  the  row.  "  Now,  yer  know,"  said  Mrs.  Rug- 
gles impressively,  "there  ain't  enough  decent  hats 
to  go  round,  'n'  if  there  was  I  don'  know  's  I  M 
let  yer  wear  'em,  for  the  boys  would  never  think  to 
take  'em  off  when  they  got  inside  —  but  anyhow, 
there  ain't  enough  good  ones.  Now,  look  me  in  the 
eye.  You  need  n't  wear  no  hats,  none  of  yer,  'n' 
when  yer  get  int'  the  parlor,  'n'  they  ask  yer  ter 
lay  off  yer  hats,  Sarah  Maud  must  speak  up  'n* 
say  it  was  sech  a  pleasant  evenin'  'n'  sech  a  short 
walk  that  yer  left  yer  hats  to  home  to  save  trouble. 
Now,  can  yer  remember  ?  " 

All  the  little  Ruggleses  shouted,  "  Yes,  marm  !  " 
in  chorus. 

"  What  have  you  got  ter  do  with  it  ?  "  demanded 
their  mother  ;  "  did  I  tell  you  to  say  it  ?  Warn't  I 
talkin'  ter  Sarah  Maud  ?  " 

The  little  Ruggleses  hung  their  diminished  heads. 
"  Yes,  marm,"  they  piped,  more  feebly. 

"  Now  git  up,  all  of  ye,  an'  try  it.  —  Speak  up, 
Sarah  Maud." 


42  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

Sarah  Maud's  tongue  clove  to  the  root  of  her 
mouth. 

"  Quick ! " 

"  Ma  thought  —  it  was  —  sech  a  pleasant  hat  that 
we  'd  —  we  'd  better  leave  our  short  walk  to  home," 
recited  Sarah  Maud,  in  an  agony  of  mental  effort. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  boys.  An  earthquake 
of  suppressed  giggles  swept  all  along  the  line. 

"  Oh,  whatever  shall  I  do  with  yer  ?  "  moaned  the 
unhappy  mother ;  "  I  s'pose  I  've  got  to  learn  it  to 
yer !  "  —  which  she  did,  word  for  word,  until  Sarah 
Maud  thought  she  could  stand  on  her  head  and  say 
it  backwards. 

"  Now  Cornelius,  what  are  you  goin'  ter  say  ter 
make  yerself  good  comp'ny  ?  " 

"  Me  ?     Dunno  !  "  said  Cornelius,  turning  pale. 

"  Well,  ye  ain't  goin'  to  set  there  like  a  bump  on 
a  log  'thout  sayin'  a  word  ter  pay  for  yer  vittles,  air 
ye  ?  Ask  Mis'  Bird  how  she  's  feelin'  this  evenin', 
or  if  Mr.  Bird's  hevin'  a  busy  season,  or  how  this 
kind  o'  weather  agrees  with  him,  or  somethin'  like 
that.  —  Now  we  '11  make  b'lieve  we  've  got  ter  the 
dinner  —  that  won't  be  so  hard,  'cause  yer  '11  have 
somethin'  to  do  —  it 's  awful  bothersome  to  stan' 
round  an'  act  stylish.  —  If  they  have  napkins,  Sarah 
Maud  down  to  Peory  may  put  'em  in  their  laps,  'n' 


•    SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  ARE  TAUGHT  TO  FLY.       43 

the  rest  of  ye  can  tuck  'em  in  yer  necks.  Don't  eat 
with  yer  fingers  —  don't  grab  no  vittles  off  one 
'nother's  plates ;  don't  reach  out  for  nothin',  but 
wait  till  yer  asked,  'n'  if  you  never  git  asked  don't 
git  up  and  grab  it.  —  Don't  spill  nothin'  on  the 
tablecloth,  or  like  's  not  Mis'  Bird  '11  send  yer  away 
from  the  table  —  'n'  I  hope  she  will-  if  yer  do ! 
(Susan  !  keep  your  handkerchief  in  your  lap  where 
Peory  can  bony  it  if  she  needs  it,  'n'  I  hope  she  '11 
know  when  she  does  need-  it,  though  I  don't  expect 
it.)  Now  we  '11  try  a  few  things  ter  see  how  they  '11 
go  !  Mr.  Clement,  do  you  eat  cramb'ry  sarse  ?  *' 

"  Bet  yer  life  !  "  cried  Clem,  who  in  the  excite- 
ment of  the  moment  had  not  taken  in  the  idea 
exactly  and  had  mistaken  this  for  an  ordinary  bo- 
som-of-the-family  question. 

"Clement  Mc Grill  Ruggles,  do  you  mean  to  tell 
me  that  you  'd  say  that  to  a  dinner-party  ?  I  '11  give 
ye  one  more  chance.  Mr.  Clement,  will  you  take 
some  of  the  cramb'ry?" 

"  Yes  marm,  thank  ye  kindly,  if  you  happen  ter 
have  any  handy." 

6i  Very  good,  indeed  \  But  they  won't  give  yer 
two  tries  to-night,  —  yer  just  remember  that !  — 
Miss  Peory,  do  you  speak  for  white  or  dark  meat  ?  " 

"  I  ain't  perticler  as  ter  color,  —  anything  that 


44  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

nobody  else  wants,  will  suit  me,"  answered  Peory 
with  her  best  air.  * 

"  First  -  rate  !  nobody  could  speak  more  genteel 
than  that.  Miss  Kitty,  will  you  have  hard  or  soft 
sarse  with  your  pudden  ?  " 

"Hard  or  soft?  Oh!-  A  little  of  both,  if  you 
please,  an*  I  'm  much  obliged,"  said  Kitty,  bowing 
with  decided  ease  and  grace ;  at  which  all  the  other 
Ruggleses  pointed  the  finger  of  shame  at  her,  and 
Peter  grunted  expressively,  that  their  meaning 
might  not  be  mistaken. 

"  You  just  stop  your  gruntin',  Peter  Ruggles ; 
that  warn't  greedy,  that  was  all  right.  I  wish  I 
could  git  it  inter  your  heads  that  it  ain't  so  much 
what  yer  say,  as  the  way  you  say  it.  Eily,  you  an* 
Larry  's  too  little  to  train,  so  you  just  look  at  the 
rest,  an'  do  's  they  do,  'n'  the  Lord  have  mercy  on 
ye  'n'  help  ye  to  act  decent !  Now,  is  there  any- 
thing more  ye  'd  like  to  practice  ?  " 

"  If  yer  tell  me  one  more  thing,  I  can't  set  rp 
an'  eat,"  said  Peter,  gloomily ;  "  I  'm  so  cram  full  o' 
manners  now  I  'm  ready  ter  bust,  'thout  no  dinner 
at  all." 

"  Me  too,"  chimed  in  Cornelius. 

"  Well,  I  'm  sorry  for  yer  both,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Ruggles,  sarcastically ;  "  if  the  'mount  o'  manners 
yer  've  got  on  hand  now,  troubles  ye,  you  're  dread- 


SOME  OTHER  BIRDS  ARE  TAUGHT  TO  FLY.       45 

£ul  easy  hurt!  Now,  Sarah  Maud,  after  dinner, 
about  once  in  so  often,  you  must  git  up  'n'  say,  cl 
guess  we  'd  better  be  goin' ; '  'n'  if  they  say,  (  Oh, 
no,  set  a  while  longer,'  yer  can  set ;  but  if  they 
don't  say  nothin'  you  've  got  ter  get  up  'n'  go.  — 
Now  hev  yer  got  that  int'  yer  head  ?  " 

"  About  once  in  so  often  !  "  Could  any  words  in 
the  language  be  fraught  with  more  terrible  and 
wearing  uncertainty  ? 

"  Well,"  answered  Sarah  Maud,  mournfully, 
*  seems  as  if  this  whole  dinner-party  set  right  square 
on  top  o'  me !  Mebbe  I  could  manage  my  own 
manners,  but  ter  manage  nine  mannerses  is  worse 
*n  staying  to  home  !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  fret,"  said  her  mother,  good  naturedly, 
•*  I  guess  you  '11  git  along.  I  would  n't  mind  if 
folks  would  only  say, '  Oh,  childern  will  be  childern ; ' 
but  they  won't.  They  '11  say,  '  Land  o'  Goodness,, 
who  fetched  them  childern  up?  '  —  It's  quarter  past 
five,  'n'  yer  can  go  now:  —  remember  'bout  the 
hats,  —  don't  all  talk  ter  once,  —  Susan,  lend  yer 
han'k' chief  ter  Peory,  —  Peter,  don't  keep  screwin' 
yer  scarf-pin,  —  Cornelius,  hold  yer  head  up  straight, 
—  Sarah  Maud,  don't  take  yer  eyes  off  o*  Larry,  V 
Larry  you  keep  holt  o'  Sarah  Maud  'n'  do  jest  as 
she  says,  —  'n'  whatever  you  do,  all  of  yer,  never  for- 
git  for  one  second  that  yer  mother  was  a  McGrill." 


VI. 

"when  the  pie  was  opened, 
the  birds  began  to  sing !  " 


1 


HE  children  went  out  of  the  back  door  qui- 


etly, and  were  presently  lost  to  sight, 
Sarah  Maud  slipping  and  stumbling  along 
absent-mindedly,  as  she  recited  rapidly  under  her 
breath, "  Itwassuchapleasantevenin'n'suchashortwalk, 
thatwethoughtwe'dleaveourhatstohome." 

Peter  rang  the  door-bell,  and  presently  a  servant 
admitted  them,  and,  whispering  something  in  Sarah's 
ear,  drew  her  downstairs  into  the  kitchen.  The 
other  Ruggleses  stood  in  horror-stricken  groups  as 
the  door  closed  behind  their  commanding  officer; 
but  there  was  no  time  for  reflection,  for  a  voice 
from  above  was  heard,  saying,  "  Come  right  upstairs; 
please ! " 

"  Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  but  to  do  or  die." 

Accordingly   they  walked  upstairs,  and  Elfrida, 


WHEN  THE  PIE   WAS   OPENED.  47 

the  nurse,  ushered  them  into  a  room  more  splendid 
than  anything  they  had  ever  seen.  But,  oh  woe! 
where  was  Sarah  Maud !  and  was  it  Fate  that  Mrs. 
Bird  should  say,  at  once,  "  Did  you  lay  your  hats  in 
the  hall  ?  "  Peter  felt  himself  elected  by  circum- 
stance the  head  of  the  family,  and,  casting  one  im- 
ploring look  at  tongue-tied  Susan,  standing  next 
him,  said  huskily,  "  It  was  so  very  pleasant  —  that 
—  that  —  "  "  That  we  had  n't  good  hats  enough 
to  go  round,"  put  in  little  Susan,  bravely,  to  help 
him  out,  and  then  froze  with  horror  that  the  ill-fated 
words  had  slipped  off  her  tongue. 

However,  Mrs.  Bird  said,  pleasantly,  "  Of  course 
you  would  n't  wear  hats  such  a  short  distance  —  I 
forgot  when  I  asked.  Now  will  you  come  right  in 
to  Miss  Carol's  room?  She  is  so  anxious  to  see 
you." 

Just  then  Sarah  Maud  came  up  the  back-stairs,  so 
radiant  with  joy  from  her  secret  interview  with  the 
cook  that  Peter  could  have  pinched  her  with  a  clear 
conscience,  and  Carol  gave  them  a  joyful  welcome. 
:i  But  where  is  Baby  Larry  ? "  she  cried,  looking 
over  the  group  with  searching  eye.  "Didn't  he 
come?" 

"  Larry  !  Larry  !  "  Good  gracious,  where  was 
Larry  ?     They  were  all  sure  that  he  had  come  in 


48  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

with  them,  for  Susan  remembered  scolding  him  for 
tripping  over  the  door-mat.  Uncle  Jack  went  into 
convulsions  of  laughter.  "  Are  you  sure  there  were 
nine  of  you  ?  "  he  asked,  merrily. 

"  I  think  so,  sir,"  said  Peoria,  timidly  ;  "  but  any 
how,  there  was  Larry ; "  and  she  showed  signs  of 
weeping. 

"  Oh,  well,  cheer  up  !  "  cried  Uncle  Jack.  *  1 
guess  he  's  not  lost  —  only  mislaid.  I  '11  go  and  find 
him  before  you  can  say  Jack  Robinson  !  " 

"  I  '11  go,  too,  if  you  please,  sir,"  said  Sarah  Maud, 
u  for  it  was  my  place  to  mind  him,  an;  if  he  's  lost  I 
can't  relish  my  vittles !  " 

The  other  Ruggleses  stood  rooted  to  the  floor. 
Was  this  a  dinner-party,  forsooth ;  and  if  so,  why 
were  such  things  ever  spoken  of  as  festive  occa- 
sions? 

Sarah  Maud  went  out  through  the  hall,  calling, 
"  Larry  !  Larry ! "  and  without  any  interval  of  sus- 
pense a  thin  voice  piped  up  from  below,  "  Here  I 
be!" 

The  truth  was  that  Larry,  being  deserted  by  his 
natural  guardian,  dropped  behind  the  rest,  and  wrig- 
gled into  the  hat-tree  to  wait  for  her,  having  ug  no- 
tion of  walking  unprotected  into  the  jaws  of  a  din- 
ner-party.    Finding  that  she  did  not  come,  he  tried 


WHEN  THE  PIE    WAS  OPENED.  49 

to  crawl  from  his  refuge  and  call  somebody,  when  — 
dark  and  dreadful  ending  to  a  tragic  day  —  he  found 
that  he  was  too  much  intertwined  with  umbrellas 
and  canes  to  move  a  single  step.  He  was  afraid  to 
yell !  (when  I  have  said  this  of  Larry  Ruggles  I 
have  pictured  a  state  of  helpless  terror  that  ought  to 
wring  tears  from  every  eye;)  and  the  sound  of  Sarah 
Maud's  beloved  voice,  some  seconds  later,  was  like  a 
strain  of  angel  music  in  his  ears.  Uncle  Jack  dried 
his  tears,  carried  him  upstairs,  and  soon  had  him  in 
breathless  fits  of  laughter,  while  Carol  so  made  the 
other  Ruggleses  forget  themselves  that  they  were 
presently  talking  like  accomplished  diners-out. 

Carol's  bed  had  been  moved  into  the  farthest  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and  she  was  lying  on  the  outside, 
dressed  in  a  wonderful  soft  white  wrapper.  Her 
golden  hair  fell  in  fluffy  curls  over  her  white  fore- 
head and  neck,  her  cheeks  flushed  delicately,  her 
eyes  beamed  with  joy,  and  the  children  told  their 
mother,  afterwards,  that  she  looked  as  beautiful  as 
the  angels  in  the  picture  books. 

There  was  a  great  bustle  behind  a  huge  screen  in 
another  part  of  the  room,  and  at  half  past  five  this 
was  taken  away,  and  the  Christmas  dinner-table 
stood  revealed.  What  a  wonderful  sight  it  was  to 
the  poor  little  Ruggles  children,  who  ate  their  some- 


50  THE  BIRDS'   CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

times  scanty  meals  on  the  kitchen  table  !  It  blazed 
with  tall  colored  candles,  it  gleamed  with  glass  and 
silver,  it  blushed  with  flowers,  it  groaned  with  good 
things  to  eat ;  so  it  was  not  strange  that  the  Rug- 
gleses,  forgetting  that  their  mother  was  a  McGrill, 
shrieked  in  admiration  of  the  fairy  spectacle.  Bui 
Larry's  behavior  was  the  most  disgraceful,  for  he 
stood  not  upon  the  order  of  his  going,  but  went  at 
once  for  a  high  chair  that  pointed  unmistakably  to 
him,  climbed  up  Mke  a  squirrel,  gave  a  comprehen- 
sive look  at  the  turkey,  clapped  his  hands  in  ecstasy, 
rested  his  fat  arms  on  the  table,  and  cried  with  joy, 
"  I  beat  the  hull  lot  o'  yer  !  "  Carol  laughed  until 
she  cried,  giving  orders,  meanwhile,  —  "  Uncle  Jack, 
please  sit  at  the  head,  Sarah  Maud  at  the  foot,  and 
that  will  leave  four  on  each  side  ;  Mamma  is  going 
to  help  Elfrida,  so  that  the  children  need  not  look 
after  each  other,  but  just  have  a  good  time." 

A  sprig  of  holly  lay  by  each  plate,  and  nothing 
would  do  but  each  little  Ruggles  must  leave  his  seat 
and  have  it  pinned  on  by  Carol,  and  as  each  course 
was  served,  one  of  them  pleaded  to  take  something 
to  her.  There  was  hurrying  to  and  fro,  I  can  as- 
sure you,  for  it  is  quite  a  difficult  matter  to  serve  a 
Christmas  dinner  on  the  third  floor  of  a  great  city 
house ;  but  if  it  had  been  necessary  to  carry  every 


Ill 


iiiiiia^^ifc 


EW;.v 


THE   RUGGLESES    NEVER    FORGOT    IT.     Page  SI. 


WHEN  THE  PIE   WAS   OPENED.  53 

dish  up  a  rope  ladder  the  servants  would  gladly  have 
done  so.  There  were  turkey  and  chicken,  with  deli- 
cious gravy  and  stuffing,  and  there  were  half  a  dozen 
vegetables,  with  cranberry  jelly,  and  celery,  and 
pickles ;  and  as  for  the  way  these  delicacies  were 
served,  the  Ruggleses  never  forgot  it  as  long  as  they 
lived. 

Peter  nudged  Kitty,  who  sat  next  him,  and  said, 
*  Look,  will  yer,  ev'ry  feller 's  got  his  own  partic'lar 
butter ;  I  s'pose  that 's  to  show  you  can  eat  that 
'n'  no  more.  No,  it  ain't  either,  for  that  pig  of  a 
Peory  's  just  gettin'  another  helpin'  !  " 

"  Yes,"  whispered  Kitty,  "  an'  the  napkins  is 
marked  with  big  red  letters  !  I  wonder  if  that 's  so 
nobody  '11  nip  'em ;  an'  oh,  Peter,  look  at  the  pictures 
stickin'  right  on  ter  the  dishes  !    Did  yer  ever  ?  " 

"  The  plums  is  all  took  out  o'  my  cramb'ry  sarse 
an'  it 's  friz  to  a  stiff  jell' ! "  whispered  Peoria,  in 
wild  excitement. 

"  Hi  —  yah  !  I  got  a  wish-bone  !  "  sang  Larry, 
regardless  of  Sarah  Maud's  frown ;  after  which 
she  asked  to  have  his  seat  changed,  giving  as  ex- 
cuse that  he  gen'ally  set  beside  her,  an'  would 
"  feel  strange ;  "  the  true  reason  being  that  she 
desired  to  kick  him  gently,  under  the  table,  when- 
ever he  passed  what  might  be  termed  "  the  McGrill 
line." 


54  THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 

"I  declare  to  goodness,"  murmured  Susan,  on 
the  other  side,  "  there  's  so  much  to  look  at  I  can't 
scarcely  eat  nothin'  !  " 

"  Bet  yer  life  I  can  !  "  said  Peter,  who  had  kept 
one  servant  busily  employed  ever  since  he  sat  down  ; 
for,  luckily,  no  one  was  asked  by  Uncle  Jack  whether 
he  would  have  a  second  helping,  but  the  dishes  were 
quietly  passed  under  their  noses,  and  not  a  single 
Ruggles  refused  anything  that  was  offered  him,  even 
unto  the  seventh  time. 

Then,  when  Carol  and  Uncle  Jack  perceived  that 
more  turkey  was  a  physical  impossibility,  the  meats 
were  taken  off  and  the  dessert  was  brought  in  —  a 
dessert  that  would  have  frightened  a  strong  man 
after  such  a  dinner  as  had  preceded  it.  Not  so  the 
Ruggleses  —  for  a  strong  man  is  nothing  to  a  small 
boy  —  and  they  kindled  to  the  dessert  as  if  the 
turkey  had  been  a  dream  and  the  six  vegetables  an 
optical  delusion.  There  were  plum-pudding,  mince- 
pie,  and  ice-cream;  and  there  were  nuts,  and  raisins, 
and  oranges.  Kitty  chose  ice-cream,  explaining 
that  she  knew  it  "  by  sight,  though  she  had  n't 
never  tasted  none ;  "  but  all  the  rest  took  the  entire 
variety,  without  any  regard  to  consequences. 

"  My  dear  child,"  whispered  Uncle  Jack,  as  he 
took  Carol  an  orange,  "  there  is  no  doubt  about  the 


WHEN   THE  PIE    WAS   OPENED.  55 

necessity  of  this  feast,  but  I  do  advise  you  after  this 
to  have  them  twice  a  year,  or  quarterly  perhaps,  for 
the  way  these  children  eat  is  positively  dangerous ; 
I  assure  you  I  tremble  for  that  terrible  Peoria.  I  'm 
going  to  run  races  with  her  after  dinner." 

"  Never  mind,"  laughed  Carol ;  "  let  them  hav< 
enough  for  once ;  it  does  my  heart  good  to  see  them, 
and  they  shall  come  oftener  next  year." 

The  feast  being  over,  the  Ruggleses  lay  back  in 
their  chairs  languidly,  like  little  gorged  boa-con- 
strictors, and  the  table  was  cleared  in  a  trice.  Then 
a  door  was  opened  into  the  next  room,  and  there, 
in  a  corner  facing  Carol's  bed,  which  had  been 
wheeled  as  close  as  possible,  stood  the  brilliantly 
lighted  Christmas  tree,  glittering  with  gilded  walnuts 
and  tiny  silver  balloons,  and  wreathed  with  snowy 
chains  of  pop-corn.  The  presents  had  been  bought 
mostly  with  Carol's  story-money,  and  were  selected 
after  long  consultations  with  Mrs.  Bird.  Each  girl 
had  a  blue  knitted  hood,  and  each  boy  a  red  cro- 
cheted comforter,  all  made  by  Mamma,  Carol,  and 
Elf rida.  ("  Because  if  you  buy  everything,  it  does  n' , 
show  so  much  love,"  said  Carol.)  Then  every  girl 
had  a  pretty  plaid  dress  of  a  different  color,  and 
every  boy  a  warm  coat  of  the  right  size.  Here  the 
useful  presents  stopped,  and  they  were  quite  enough ; 


56  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

but  Carol  had  pleaded  to  give  them  something  "  for 
fun."  "  I  know  they  need  the  clothes,"  she  had 
said,  when  they  were  talking  over  the  matter  just 
after  Thanksgiving, "  but  they  don't  care  much  for 
them,  after  all.  Now,  Papa,  won't  jouplease  let  me 
go  without  part  of  my  presents  this  year,  and  give 
me  the  money  they  would  cost,  to  buy  something  to 
amuse  the  Ruggleses  ?  " 

<l  You  can  have  both,"  said  Mr.  Bird,  promptly ; 
"  is  there  any  need  of  my  little  girl's  going  without 
her  own  Christmas,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  Spend 
all  the  money  you  like." 

"  But  that  is  n't  the  thing,"  objected  Carol,  nes- 
tling close  to  her  father;  "it  wouldn't  be  mine. 
What  is  the  use?  Have  n't  I  almost  everything 
already,  and  am  I  not  the  happiest  girl  in  the  world 
this  year,  with  Uncle  Jack  and  Donald  at  home? 
You  know  very  well  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than 
to  receive ;  so  why  won't  you  let  me  do  it  ?  You 
never  look  half  as  happy  when  you  are  getting  your 
presents  as  when  you  are  giving  us  ours.  Now, 
Papa,  submit,  or  I  shall  have  to  be  very  firm  and 
disagreeable  with  you !  " 

"  Very  well,  your  Highness,  I  surrender." 

6C That's  a  dear  Papa!  Now  what  were  you 
going  to  give  me  ?     Confess  !  " 


WHEN  THE  PIE   WAS  OPENED.  57 

"A  bronze  figure  of  Santa  Claus;  and  in  the 
'  little  round  belly  that  shakes  when  he  laughs  like 
a  bowl  full  of  jelly/  is  a  wonderful  clock  —  oh,  you 
would  never  give  it  up  if  you  could  see  it ! " 

"  Nonsense,"  laughed  Carol ;  "  as  I  never  have  to 
&et  up  to  breakfast,  nor  go  to  bed,  nor  catch  trains. 
I  think  my  old  clock  will  do  very  well!  Now, 
Mamma,  what  were  you  going  to  give  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  had  n't  decided.  A  few  more  books,  and 
a  gold  thimble,  and  a  smelling-bottle,  and  a  music- 
box,  perhaps." 

"  Poor  Carol,"  laughed  the  child,  merrily,  a  she 
can  afford  to  give  up  these  lovely  things,  for  there 
will  still  be  left  Uncle  Jack,  and  Donald,  and  Paul, 
and  Hugh,  and  Uncle  Eob,  and  Aunt  Elsie,  and  a 
dozen  other  people  to  fill  her  Christmas  stocking !  " 

So  Carol  had  her  way,  as  she  generally  did ;  but 
it  was  usually  a  good  way,  which  was  fortunate,  un- 
der the  circumstances ;  and  Sarah  Maud  had  a  set 
of  Miss  Alcott's  books,  and  Peter  a  modest  silver 
watch,  Cornelius  a  tool-chest,  Clement  a  dog-house 
,Jor  his  "lame  puppy,"  Larry  a  magnificent  Noah's 
ark,  and  each  of  the  little  girls  a  beautiful  doll. 

You  can  well  believe  that  everybody  was  very 
merry  and  very  thankful.  All  the  family,  from  Mr. 
Bird  down  to  the  cook,  said  that  they  had  never 


58  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 

seen  so  much  happiness  in  the  space  of  three  hours ; 
..but  it  had  to  end,  as  all  things  do.  The  candles 
flickered  and  went  out,  the  tree  was  left  alone  with 
its  gilded  ornaments,  and  Mrs.  Bird  sent  the  children 
downstairs  at  half  past  eight,  thinking  that  Carol 
looked  tired. 

"  Now,  my  darling,  you  have  done  quite  enough 
for  one  day,"  said  Mrs.  Bird,  getting  Carol  into  her 
little  nightgown,  "  I  'm  afraid  you  will  feel  worse 
to-morrow,  and  that  would  be  a  sad  ending  to  such 
a  charming  evening." 

"  Oh,  was  n't  it  a  lovely,  lovely  time,"  sighed 
Carol.  "  From  first  to  last,  everything  was  just 
right.  I  shall  never  forget  Larry's  face  when  he 
looked  at  the  turkey ;  nor  Peter's,  when  he  saw  his 
watch ;  nqr  that  sweet,  sweet  Kitty's  smile  when  she 
kissed  her  dolly ;  nor  the  tears  in  poor,  dull  Sarah 
Maud's  eyes  when  she  thanked  me  for  her  books ; 
nor     — 

"  But  we  must  n't  talk  any  longer  about  it  to- 
night," said  Mrs.  Bird,  anxiously ;  "  you  are  too 
tired,  dear." 

"  I  am  not  so  very  tired,  Mamma.  I  have  felt 
well  all  day  ;  not  a  bit  of  pain  anywhere.  Perhaps 
this  has  done  me  good." 

"  Perhaps  j  I  hope  so.    There  was  no  noise  or  con- 


WHEN  THE  PIE    WAS   OPENED.  59 

fusion ;  it  was  just  a  merry  time.  Now,  may  I  close 
the  door  and  leave  you  alone,  dear?  Papa  and  I 
will  steal  in  softly  by  and  by  to  see  if  you  are  all 
right ;  but  I  think  you  need  to  be  very  quiet." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  willing  to  stay  alone ;  but  I  am  not 
sleepy  yet,  and  I  am  going  to  hear  the  music,  you 
know." 

"  Yes,  I  have  opened  the  window  a  little,  and  put 
the  screen  in  front  of  it,  so  that  you  won't  feel  the 
air." 

"  Can  I  have  the  shutters  open  ?  and  won't  you 
turn  my  bed  a  little,  please  ?  This  morning  I  Woke 
ever  so  early,  and  one  bright,  beautiful  star  shone  in 
that  eastern  window.  I  never  noticed  it  before,  and 
I  thought  of  the  Star  in  the  East,  that  guided  the 
wise  men  to  the  place  where  the  baby  Jesus  was. 
Good-night,  Mamma.     Such  a  happy,  happy  day  ! " 

"  Good-night,  my  precious  little  Christmas  Carol 
—  mother's  blessed  Christmas  child." 

"  Bend  your  head  a  minute,  mother  dear,"  whis- 
pered Carol,  calling  her  mother  back.  "Mamma, 
dear,  I  do  think  that  we  have  kept  Christ's  birthday 
this  time  just  as  He  would  like  it.     Don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Bird,  softly. 

V 


vn. 

THE   BIRDLING   FLIES   AWAY. 


W 


HE  Ruggleses  had  finished  a  last  romp  in 
the  library  with  Paul  and  Hugh,  and  Uncle 
Jack  had  taken  them  home  and  stayed  a 
while  to  chat  with  Mrs.  Kuggles,  who  opened  the 
door  for  them,  her  face  all  aglow  with  excitement 
and  delight.  When  Kitty  and  Clem  showed  her  the 
oranges  and  nuts  that  they  had  kept  for  her,  she 
astonished  them  by  saying  that  at  six  o'clock  Mrs. 
Bird  had  sent  her  in  the  finest  dinner  she  had  ever 
seen  in  her  life ;  and  not  only  that,  but  a  piece  of 
dress-goods  that  must  have  cost  a  dollar  a  yard  if  it 
cost  a  cent. 

As  Uncle  Jack  went  down  the  little  porch  he 
looked  back  into  the  window  for  a  last  glimpse  of 
the  family,  as  the  children  gathered  about  their 
mother,  showing  their  beautiful  presents  again  and 
again,  —  and  then  upward  to  a  window  in  the  great 
house  yonder.  "A  little  child  shall  lead  them," 
he  thought.     "  Well,  if  —  if   anything  ever  hap- 


"MY  AIN  COUNTREE."     Page  61. 


THE  BIRDL1NG  FLIES  AWAY.  63 

pens  to  Carol,  I  will  take  the  Ruggleses  under  my 
wing." 

"  Softly,  Uncle  Jack,"  whispered  the  boys,  as  he 
walked  into  the  library  a  little  while  later.  "  We 
are  listening  to  the  music  in  the  church.  The  choir 
sang  i  Carol,  brothers,  carol,'  a  while  ago,  and  now 
we  think  the  organist  is  beginning  to  play  *  My  am 
countree '  for  Carol." 

"  I  hope  she  hears  it,"  said  Mrs.  Bird ;  "  but  they 
are  very  late  to-night,  and  I  dare  not  speak  to 
her  lest  she  should  be  asleep.  It  is  almost  ten 
o'clock." 

The  boy-soprano,  clad  in  white  surplice,  stood  in 
the  organ  loft.  The  light  shone  full  upon  his  crown 
of  fair  hair,  and  his  pale  face,  with  its  serious  blue 
eyes,  looked  paler  than  usual.  Perhaps  it  was  some- 
thing in  the  tender  thrill  of  the  voice,  or  in  the 
sweet  words,  but  there  were  tears  in  many  eyes,  both 
in  the  church  and  in  the  great  house  next  door., 

"  I  am  far  frae  my  hame, 

I  am  weary  af  ten  whiles 
For  the  langed-for  hame-bringin,9 

An'  my  Faether's  welcome  smiles ; 
An'  I  '11  ne'er  be  fu'  content, 

Until  my  e'en  do  see 
The  gowden  gates  o'  heaven 

In  my  ain  countree. 


64:  THE  BIRDS'    CHRISTMAS   CAROL, 

"  The  earth  is  decked  wi'  flow'rs, 

Mony  tinted,  fresh  an'  gay, 
An'  the  birdies  warble  blythely, 

For  my  Faether  made  them  sae  5 
But  these  sights  an'  these  soun's 

Will  as  naething  be  to  me, 
When  I  hear  the  angels  singin' 

In  my  ain  countree. 

"  Like  a  bairn  to  its  mither, 

A  wee  birdie  to  its  nest, 
I  fain  would  be  gangin'  noo 

Unto  my  Faether's  breast; 
For  He  gathers  in  His  arms 

Helpless,  worthless  lambs  like  me, 
An'  carries  them  Himsel' 

To  his  ain  countree." 

There  were  tears  in  many  eyes,  but  not  in  Carol's. 
The  loving  heart  had  quietly  ceased  to  beat;  and  the 
u  wee  birdie  "  in  the  great  house  had  flown  to  its 
<c  home  nest."  Carol  had  fallen  asleep  !  But  as  to 
the  song,  I  think  perhaps,  I  cannot  say,  she  heard 
it  after  all  I 


So  sad  an  ending  to  a  happy  day!  Perhaps — to 
those  who  were  left ;  and  yet  Carol's  mother,  even 
in  the  freshness  of  her  grief,  was  glad  that  her  dar- 


THE  BIRDL1NG  FLIES  AWAY.  65 

ling  had  slipped  away  on  the  loveliest  day  of  her 
life,  out  of  its  glad  content,  into  everlasting  peace. 

She  was  glad  that  she  had  gone  as  she  had  come, 
on  the  wings  of  song,  when  all  the  world  was  brim- 
ming over  with  joy ;  glad  of  every  grateful  smile, 
of  every  joyous  burst  of  laughter,  of  every  loving 
thought  and  word  and  deed  the  dear  last  day  had 
brought. 

Sadness  reigned,  it  is  true,  in  the  little  house  be- 
hind the  garden;  and  one  day  poor  Sarah  Maud, 
with  a  courage  born  of  despair,  threw  on  her  hood 
and  shawl,  walked  straight  to  a  certain  house  a  mile 
away,  up  the  marble  steps  into  good  Dr.  Bartol's 
office,  falling  at  his  feet  as  she  cried,  "  Oh,  sir,  it 
was  me  an'  our  children  that  went  to  Miss  Carol's 
last  dinner-party,  an'  if  we  made  her  worse  we  can't 
never  be  happy  again !  "  Then  the  kind  old  gentle- 
man took  her  rough  hand  in  his  and  told  her  to  dry 
her  tears,  for  neither  s'he  nor  any  of  her  flock  had 
hastened  Carol's  flight — indeed,  he  said  that  had 
it  not  been  for  the  strong  hopes  and  wishes  that 
filled  her  tired  heart,  she  could  not  have  stayed  long 
enough  to  keep  that  last  merry  Christmas  with  her 
dear  ones. 

And  so  the  old  years,  fraught  with  memories,  die, 
one  after  another,  and  the  new  years,  bright  with 


66 


THE  BIRDS'  CHRISTMAS   CAROL. 


hopes,  are  born  to  take  their  places ;  but  Carol  lives 
again  in  every  chime  of  Christmas  bells  that  peal  glad 
tidings  and  in  every  Christmas  anthem  sung  by 
childish  voices. 


■r:y\,:Jl'^ 


